It was every bit as romantic as Out of Africa and then some. We toured South Africa, the sweeping beauty of which is pock-marked by unparalleled unemployment, poverty, crime, and AIDS. The scars of Apartheid were distinct — from the street signs formerly named after Apartheid supporters, re-christened to diversity leaders to the very language used to describe this beautiful little girl. A person of mixed race is referred to as “coloured,” the girl’s mother informed me.
I spent a great part of my 20’s visiting friends in New York. Falling in (and out of) love, combing racks of indie records at Other Music, and savoring Sahadi’s marinated olives are a few of my favorite memories. This past April, my husband and I decided to endure the 24 hours of travel required to get from Guam to NYC just to enjoy one of our favorite cities (and his home of 18 years). The April flowers were in full bloom and so were we.
Little India is a sensory assault, from the heady aroma of floral garlands hanging from sidewalk stalls to the smell of rich, delicious curry that seems to permeate every nook and cranny. Brightly colored dresses adorn doorways of shops offering everything from sparkly bracelets to stacks of electronics. Read my travel story.